By Chyanne Robinson
What was the reason?
Yeah, I got the same question
Why my head hangs low
Or how I can’t stand the thought of being different
Welp, there is no change in the way things go
No range of the anger that has yet to explode
Keep asking myself, “Why do you contain this?”
Look ahead, real closely
Every single moment ain’t granted for one’s like me
“STAND STILL, DON’T MOVE!”
‘Cause we’re looked at as crude.
Want to keep me in a box
Like I’m a mime of such sort
Going downstairs, though they’re not there
Leaving you clueless as to why I’m not there
Won’t accept these crooked ways
This is me and my rights… can’t even speak… what a shame.
Leave me down
Knee deep into a shoulder
With no sight but the pavement.
You left ‘em there
Kept ‘em swaying
Spit your lies, but there’s a fire beyond them round eyes.
Back again with the reason
To why I hang onto my history?
Is the same reason of these borders;
To keep us contained …“in our lane.”
Feels like Uno, draw the strap, reverse the curse to where you see me then clutch your purse.
Draw 4...skip that speak no facts just cap,
Here I am in this game, but this is one I didn’t sign up to play.